Peak
by dumpsterhedgehog
Summary: The 3rd Street Gang has just started their senior year of high school. Spinelli is struggling with deciding whether or not to move across the country for university. She didn't think he'd be a factor in her decision. Maybe she was wrong.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey everyone! This is my first fanfiction ever, I'm so excited to finally be publishing something! Please be patient as I figure out the best formatting for the story haha. So just some info before you start reading: I have set the story over the nine months of the school year, starting in September of course. Whenever the month changes I'll put it at the beginning of the chapter! Also, the story is set in California. I know canonically the Recess gang lives in Arkansas, but for the longest time as a kid I thought they lived in California for some reason so that's where I'm setting this story haha. There won't be much T.J./Spin romance until a few chapters in, please bear with me! I have the whole story planned out, and there will be plenty of them in later chapters. Anyway, enjoy! _

**_September_**

"Go!" I shout. There's a line of cars behind me waiting to turn into the school parking lot, but the car in front of me won't move, despite it being safe to do so. I honk, and the car finally turns. I groan and turn the radio up. I was almost excited this morning when I was getting ready for my last first day, but now that the school is in sight, the familiar dread of the daily grind has set in. Still, it's almost surreal as I pull into the nearest parking spot, knowing that this is the first day of my senior year.

I turn the car off and hop out. I'm nearly five minutes late, which is really kind of early for me. A few other late stragglers are walking to the building. The morning sun is already warm on my face, reminding me that summer summer hasn't really ended. There are still a few warm weeks left.

A hand clapping down on my shoulder jolts me out of my thoughts.

"What the f-" I turn around, startled by the sudden touch, to see T.J. smiling down at me. I should have known he'd be late, too.

"Late on the first day, huh? Not a good way to start the year." I shove him, rolling my eyes.

"You're late, too, genius," I say. He steps in stride beside me, his hands in his jeans pockets.

"Maybe I'm late on purpose," he says. I snort

"Yeah, okay. What class do you have first?" I ask.

"Autoshop," he says. "What about you?"

"English. _AP _English."

"Right. Can't forget those crucial letters," he says, snickering.

"I earned bragging rights. I studied so much I barely got any sleep last semester."

"True," he says. "NYU better appreciate all the hard work."

I groan. I've heard the letters _N-Y-U _enough times this past summer to last me for the rest of my life.

"Don't remind me," I say as I open the door to the school. TJ grabs the edge of the door, holding it open as I walk into the building. We walk down the hallway, nearing my classroom.

"What, you're not tired of hearing about college? And your _future?_" he asks teasingly.

"Piss off, Teej. Wouldn't you be annoyed if your parents were constantly talking about it?"

"Oh, believe me, they do. They don't think trade school is a getting a _real_ education."

I roll my eyes.

"That's just because Becky went to USC. They want you to go there, too."

He scoffs.

"Uh, yeah. Right. I'd rather cut off my left pinkie than study _microbial biology _for four years like Becky did."

"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Isn't Ashley going there?" I ask. He doesn't say anything; his lips purse instead.

"What?" I say.

"Nothing, just- I don't know. We're not together anymore," he says, scratching his chin. My stomach drops, and I look down at the shiny linoleum under my converse.

"Holy shit. She broke up with you?" I ask.

"No," he says, almost monotone. He doesn't elaborate any further, so I decide not to push. A knot in my stomach begins to form, and I think back to January earlier this year. We were all hanging out in Vince's basement, planning on playing _Call of Duty. _It was mostly Vince, Gus and I that played while the others watched, since we were the ones who actually liked it. But it was fun to hang out as a group nonetheless. T.J. was supposed to come, but he had broken the news to Gretchen that day. He would be a lot busier, he told her. Less time to hang out with the gang. He probably told Gretchen because he knew she would react in the most rational way.

"_He's dating _who?" _Vince exclaimed, leaning forward on the couch. Gretchen had just explained why T.J. wouldn't be coming, and Vince was the last to find out about it._

"_The queen bee herself," Gretchen says, a bowl of popcorn in her lap._

"_T.J. hates Ashley A. though!" Vince says._

"_Apparently not," Gus says as he turns the PlayStation on. Vince shoots him a look, to which Gus shrugs. I look up at the ceiling, my expression neutral but my stomach in knots._

"_I didn't know he was interested in anyone. Did you, Spinelli?" Gretchen asks._

"_Why would I know anything?" I ask, feeling my ears get hot._

"_You're his closest friend. Well, besides me," Vince says._

_I feel them all looking at me, and we're all thinking the same thing. Vince is right; T.J. normally tells me everything. Not this time, though._

"_I had no fucking idea," I respond._

I shake my head slightly, shaking the feelings of that day away and shifting my focus back to the present moment. I look back at him to find him looking at me already, and the eye contact startles me for some reason. I look away. We walk for a few feet before I say anything.

"Have you started the new season of _Regular Show_ yet?" I ask. We launch into a discussion about the new season, and we're both laughing, and I'm glad to have gotten off the topic of his love life.

We walk past my classroom, and I slow in front of the room. TJ takes a few steps forward before turning back.

"Ooh, Mr. Johnson. Good luck, Spin," he says before turning around and continuing down the hallway. I roll my eyes. We both know Johnson doesn't like when students are late, but since it's the first day, hopefully he cuts me some slack. I open the door and walk in. Mr. Johnson was in the middle of saying something, but looks up when I walk in.

"Ahh, you've made time in your busy schedule to drop into my little English class, have you, Miss Spinelli?" he asks, leaning on his desk.

So much for slack.

I mutter an apology and walk with my head down towards a familiar mop of blond hair with an empty seat beside him.

"Hopefully Mr. Blumberg will be kind enough to fill you in on what you missed," Mr. Johnson says. I hear Mikey snicker slightly before stifling it. I know we're thinking the same thing; I only missed the first ten minutes, so there's nothing to fill me in on.

The rest of the period goes on without a hitch; typical first day stuff: Johnson introducing himself, going over expectations. Boring. The course content seems really interesting, and at least I'm in the same class as Mikey. He's always loved English, and he took this class specifically because we're spending half the semester studying some of Shakespeare's poetry. By the time the bell rings, I'm actually kind of excited to start getting into the course material tomorrow.

"Ahh, can't you almost _taste _the knowledge we'll acquire this semester, Spinelli?" Mikey says as we file out of the classroom.

"All I can taste is piles of homework," I reply.

"A small price to pay for the lessons we'll learn from Shakespeare's timeless literature!" he says, almost dreamily.

"You sure are optimistic, huh Mikey?" I say, smirking.

I mutter a goodbye to Mikey when I have to start walking in the direction of my next class.

None of the gang are in this class with me, so I'm kind of bummed. I've had the teacher, Miss Kim, before though, so I know it won't be that bad. As I walk up the stairs, I can't stop thinking about my conversation with T.J. He and Ashley A. are broken up. I know I should feel bad, but I can't help feeling… happy? Maybe happy isn't the right word. I hadn't actually had to see Ashley A. all that much more than I usually would just because they were together. I despised her though, and I hated that one of my friends was entangled in her web of lies and manipulation. I guess I'm just glad that T.J. is out of that.

I walk through the door, and quietly groan; the classroom is already nearly full, and the only seat is near the back next to a window. I shuffle over to the seat and plop down in the chair.

"Ooh, look who it is!" a voice behind me says, followed by a series of giggles.

I'd know those voices anywhere. I should have known from the smell of hairspray and perfume.

I turn around and see that I'm surrounded by all four of the Ashley's.

Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

Hello anyone who's reading this! I'm sorry for taking a while to update this, I just started working full time for the summer and I've been super busy. This chapter is a bit longer and starts to get into some juicer stuff ;) I hope you guys like it, let me know if you have any feedback or suggestions!

* * *

When we were in tenth grade, I punched Ashley A. in the face. It landed me in the principal's office and Ashley A. at the doctor's office with a broken nose. The principal gave me a chance to plead my case, and my face was red with frustration as I almost shouted about how much I hated her and why she deserved it. I was nearly in tears by the end of it. I thought for sure I was going to be expelled; Ashley A.'s parents definitely pushed for it. After talking it over with my teachers, though, the principal cut me a deal: I would be suspended for a week, I had to write an apology letter to Ashley A., and I had to take AP English instead of the normal English class. My English teacher had said I was smart enough for it, but I just didn't work very hard. The principal hoped that having the extra work would keep me from fighting, and it did.

That might not last long now, though, now that I was less than two feet away from her as she sneered at me, her crew of skanks following suit.

"I didn't know they let dogs into the school," Ashley Q. giggles.

"Yeah, are you sure you're in the right class, Spinugly? You have to know how to read to be in this class," Ashley B. quips.

"Clearly it's not too hard to get in if you're all here," I say, turning back around in my chair, facing away from them.

"Ooh, good one. I can't believe I have to spend the rest of the semester looking at that terrible haircut," Ashley A. says.

I turn around and look at her, making a big show of cocking my head and looking confused.

"Your nose looks little crooked, Ashley. Maybe you should go to a doctor," I say. Her face drops from a sneer to a look of pure hatred. I smirk and turn back around. I can hear them whispering behind me, but I don't bother trying to listen. Instead, I pull out my phone and text Gretchen.

_Literally all of the Ashley's are in my math class. I'm going to puke._

She replies a moment later.

_Oh my god. It must have been an oversight by the school administration. Surely they must have known about your history with Ashley A. and realized it wouldn't be a good idea to have you in the same class. Perhaps you could switch to a different class?_

I look at the time on my phone: 10:24. I push up out of my seat, hoping to be able to sprint to the guidance counselor's office. Just as I'm almost to the door, the teacher walks in and the bell chimes.

"Spinelli! Where are you going?" Miss Kim asks, coffee in hand.

I peer past her into the hallway, then back at her.

"I- nowhere. Sorry," I say, sighing.

"Take your seat, then," she says, and I dejectedly move back to my desk, the Ashley's snickering as I sit down. I'll have to talk to the guidance counsellor during my free period after lunch.

For the rest of the class, I try to focus on what Miss Kim is saying, and _not _on what the Ashley's are whispering about behind me. As I'm walking to the door after the bell rings, though, I'm able to catch the end of what Ashley A. is saying:

"... knows what's good for him, he'll come back."

* * *

I pull up to T.J.'s house just after the sun finally sets. He's sitting on the porch and looks up when he sees my car. I unlock the door and he gets in.

"You're on time," he says, buckling himself into the passenger seat as I pull away from the curb.

"Shut up. It took me thirty seconds to drive here," I say. I fumble with the music playing, skipping through songs before I finally settle on one.

"First party of senior year, dude. Are you stoked or what?" he asks.

I scoff.

"Totally. I love watching everyone else get blackout drunk and then driving them home," I say.

"You sure you're still cool with coming? I could be DD if you didn't want to go-"

I cut him off.

"It's fine. Besides, I don't think you could go to a party and not get plastered," I say.

"Sure I could," he says.

"Yeah. I'll believe it when I see it."

We make small talk for a few more minutes until we arrive at Gretchen's house.

"Hey, guys. I forgot to ask, did you end up getting switched into a different math class?" she asks me when she gets into the car.

I groan.

"No. It was the only math class that would fit into my schedule since I need AP fucking English," I say.

Gretchen shakes her head.

"I'm sorry, Spinelli. I guess… you could just ignore them?"

I open my mouth to reply, but T.J.'s response stops me.

"As if that would ever work," he mutters with a scoff. I furrow my brow slightly and look at Gretchen in the rearview mirror briefly before heading in the direction of Gus' house.

I know we're both thinking the same thing. Nobody is still very clear about what happened between Ashley A. and T.J.. Vince said he tried to talk to him about it, but that he just brushed him off saying that it wasn't important. It must not be, since he doesn't seem upset at all. He's completely fine, except when someone mentions any of the Ashley's. Even then, it's only off-hand comments or brief eye rolls. Nothing _too _out of the ordinary. Still, none of us want to force it out of him, but at the same time, we're all at least a little bit curious.

I push the thoughts of T.J.'s breakup to the back of my mind as we pick up the others. The other boys all pile into the back of my mom's minivan. Once we're all together, the excitement that fills the car is contagious, and we're all laughing and joking as we drive to the party. It's at some guy named Travis' house; I've never personally met him, but Vince knows him from basketball and Gus knows him from one of his classes last year. I've never been to his house before, and I find my mouth hanging open when we first pull up.

It's _huge_. It backs onto the lake in the community, so all the houses on this street are big. It has a three door garage, and the front of the house is almost entirely glass, so I can already see there are a ton of people at the party. There are so many cars lined up near his house we end up having to park about a block away and walk back.

When we get inside, a wave of muggy heat hits me. The music playing vibrates in my chest as we walk into the main living area. Someone calls out to Vince and he leaves to go greet them as Mikey and Gus and T.J. head to the kitchen to get drinks. Gretchen leans down to my ear.

"Do you want me to stay sober so you're not the only one?" she shouts.

I wave a hand.

"Don't be stupid. I'm fine," I shout back. I love her for wanting to make sure I'm comfortable, but I also know it would be lame for her if she didn't drink. Her parents rarely let her go to parties; the only reason she's at this one is because she told them it was an "intimate get-together" of ten to fifteen people. Times that number by five, though.

I walk over to the kitchen with her, looking to see if there's any soda. I spot a bottle of Sprite and pour myself a cup. I start chatting with Gretchen and Gus, the other boys gone off somewhere else. I find myself having an enjoyable time for the first two hours or so, until I have to go to the bathroom and find both of them gone when I come back out. They must have wandered off; both of them were getting pretty tipsy. By this time, most people are pretty wasted, and it shows. People are dancing sloppily, being overly obnoxious and loud. Someone nearly pushes me over as I move through the throng of partygoers. I shove him back harder, and he stumbles the other way. Deciding I can't take too much more of the brunt of this party, I decide to head outside for some fresh air.

I open the sliding glass door to the backyard and step out onto the patio. The patio is nice, with an outdoor dining set and sitting area with a fire pit already lit. I sit down on the couch, looking past the fire at the lake lit by moonlight. The music from inside is fainter now; the sound of crickets and the crackling fire are much more relaxing. Just as I lean back and close my eyes, enjoying the warmth from the flames, someone opens the door behind me.

"What are you doing out here?" I turn around and see T.J. standing in the doorway.

"Too crowded. If I hear a girl squeal one more time, I'm going to punch someone."

T.J. chuckles.

"Seriously. Mind if I join you?" he asks.

"Knock yourself out," I say, gesturing nonchalantly to the seats around me. He sinks into the chair adjacent to the couch I'm sitting in, one arm draped over the back of the chair. I look at him, noting how… not drunk he is.

"Shouldn't you be shitfaced by now?" I ask.

"You said you wouldn't believe I could go an entire party without getting drunk unless you saw it. You seein' it?" he asks jokingly.

I scoff, then laugh lightly.

"Come on. You'd pass up a perfectly good opportunity to get drunk just to one-up me?"

"Maybe. Maybe I also didn't want a repeat of sophomore year," he says.

I burst out laughing. The image of fifteen year old T.J. eating an entire lemon with the peel and then drinking water out of the host's hot tub pops into my mind.

"Dude, you have to admit. It was hilarious," I say, trying to control my laughter.

"Yeah, yeah," he says, waving a hand in the air, "it was pretty bad." He feigns annoyance but he

starts chuckling as well.

"I don't even think that's the most embarrassing thing you've done," I say.

"And what would that be?"

"Do you remember when we kissed in front of every kid on the playground for that stupid experiment?" I say, starting to snicker.

T.J. snorts.

"Holy shit. I almost forgot about that. We were what- nine?"

"Yeah, probably. God, I still think it's hilarious."

"What, that I was your first kiss?" he asks.

I scoff.

"Yeah, right. It wasn't real," I say. He touches his hat, adjusting it on his head.

"Who was your first real kiss, then?"

"You're such a nosy shit, Detweiler."

He lifts his hands in mock defense.

"Hey, I'm just curious."

"Well, since you're so _curious_, why don't you tell me who yours was?" I reply.

He adjusts his hat again, looking up to the sky.

"Fine. It was that girl I was dating for, like, a week in grade nine. Angela," he says.

"Oh, I remember her. She 'went to a different school'," I say.

"She did! She was a private school kid."

I snort back a laugh.

"Right."

"Now you should tell me, since I told you," he says, his arms crossed, legs stretched in front of him.

I roll my eyes.

"Didn't know that was part of the deal."

"It is. If you're worried I'll make fun of who it was with, I won't. Promise."

I take a sip of Sprite from the can in my hands. It feels heavy as it goes down my throat.

"I haven't," I say. I look back at him, and he's staring back at me, as if waiting for me to continue.

I don't.

He holds his chin in his hand, elbow atop the armrest of the chair.

"What about that guy you went out with last year?"

"We went on one date and he was on his phone the whole time. On Tinder," I say, starting to laugh at the memory. I called Gretchen to pick me up so I wouldn't have to endure an awkward and silent drive home with my "date".

He smiles.

"Okay, that's brutal. But you've really never kissed anyone?" he asks.

"Just you, Detweiler." It sounded lighthearted and funny in my head, but once it came out of my mouth, it sounded kind of… absolute. As if I'd intentionally not kissed anyone except T.J. In reality, I'd just not found someone I actually liked.

"Well, for what it's worth, at least your first kiss was with someone who cares about you. That's better than most people's first time." He clears his throat. "First kiss, I mean."

"Aww. You're such a softie."

We start bantering, and eventually the topic of first kisses is completely forgotten. After an hour or so, we head back inside to get the others and drive them home. T.J. is the last one I drop off. We sit in my car for a minute before he unbuckles his seatbelt.

"Thanks for the ride, Spin."

He opens the door and steps out, then sticks his head back in, saying something that for some reason makes my stomach flip upside down.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: hello to anyone reading this, and thank you for the supportive reviews! i have no excuse for why it's taken me so long to update other than i'm trash. I'm sorry! no promises but i'm hoping to have another chapter up relatively soon. take care xx**

* * *

I decide not to bother telling Gretchen about what T.J. said as he got out of the car before I even get home. I don't know what she'd think about it. Hell, I don't even know what to think about it. T.J. is almost always joking and it's easy to see when he's being serious, but when he said that weird sentence, I couldn't tell at all. He probably meant nothing by it.

I pull into the driveway and head inside. I try to be as quiet as possible so I don't wake my parents. They moved their bedroom to the main level after my dad got sick so it would be easier for him, and now I have to be careful not to stomp my way around the house when I come in past 10 or so.

I set my keys on the front hall table and start to unlace my shoes when I hear a door creak open.

I guess I wasn't quiet enough.

I look up and see my mom exiting the room, shutting the door softly behind her.

"Hi, sweetie," she says, taking a few steps closer to give me a hug.

"Hey," I reply, touching the fuzzy fabric of her pink robe, "why are you awake?"

She shrugs, a small smile on her face.

"I just like to make sure you get home safe. How was the party?"

"It was fine. Did I wake dad up?"

She shakes her head.

"You know how tired he is these days. I don't think a hurricane would wake him."

Even though it's probably true, I still make a mental note to be quieter when I go to my room.

"Hey… mom? What do you think of… of T.J.?" I ask, bending down to finish taking my shoes off.

"What do I think of T.J.? Well, I think he's a nice boy, and he's always seemed to be a good friend."

I don't say anything as I put my shoes in the closet.

"What's on your mind?" she asks.

I shrug, standing up again.

"I guess he broke up with his girlfriend, but he won't tell any of us what happened."

She considers this for a moment, before putting a hand on my arm.

"I'm sure he'll tell you when he's ready. Is that all that's bothering you? Or is there something… else?"

I smile, and shake my head slightly. My mom can always tell what's on my mind, sometimes even before I can.

"I don't know. It's stupid, but now that he doesn't have a girlfriend… I don't know."

"Oh, sweetie… we both know you've always had a bit of a crush on him."

"I have not!" I exclaim, my voice an exasperated whisper.

"I'm your mom. I just know. And I've always noticed, even when you two were little, wherever one of you goes, the other isn't too far away."

"Oh, come on. The whole gang is like that. It's not just me and Teej."

She shrugs.

"That's how it's always seemed to me, pookie. But, don't force yourself to feel anything if you don't. Nobody said you have to be more than friends."

I nod, my face red. I hug her goodnight and hurry to my room. I flop down onto my bed, facing the wall.

Have I always had a bit of a crush on him? Do I have a bit of a crush on him right now? My eyes land on one of the pictures on my wall; it was taken last summer, when Vince convinced his parents to let all of us come out to their cabin with his family for a week. The six of us are standing on a dock on a lake, arms around each other. We're all wearing bathing suits, clearly fresh out of the water. T.J. is standing on the end, signature grin on his face, his arm around my shoulders, and my arm around Gretchen's waist. I didn't think anything of it at the time; we're all just friends having fun at the lake. Does the thought of him putting his arm around me like that make me feel differently now? Or, maybe more importantly, would I want him to?

I decide that I don't need to decide. At least not right now. I push the thought of him out of my mind and allow myself to drift to sleep.


End file.
